


Mystery Magic Theater 3000

by Paycheckgurl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Mystery Science Theater 3000
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, De-aged everyone, Gen, aka the forresters are all siblings instead of being three generations now, change in familial relationships to facilitate the premise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2018-11-21 08:04:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11353296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paycheckgurl/pseuds/Paycheckgurl
Summary: Hogwarts AU. When a couple of Slytherin exchange students from the Gizmonic Institute of Magic hex fellow exchange student Joel Robinson to be forced to watch cheesey movies, he builds himself some magical robot friends to pass the time. Chaos and Hogwarts AU cliches ensue.





	1. Prologue: Joel Robinson and the Robot Rollcall

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea why I felt compelled to write this so strongly, but there you go. I haven't been as motivated to write for a fandom as I have been to write for MST in a while. As noted in the tags, everyone is deaged to allow for the AU.

There weren’t many students who could have claimed to have seen the inside of Professor Dumbledore’s office. Those that did were, more often than not, either the brightest of their year or notorious pranksters and troublemakers who needed a stern to talking to. Which exactly Joel Robinson, the sleepy eyed, dry witted, American Midwestern, Gizmonic Institute of Magic exchange program student belonged to, was up to interpretation. Particularly when it came to the curious case of the current matter on hand.

“Mr. Robinson,” said Professor McGonagall seriously, looking over her glasses. “You mean to tell me you’ve created sentient, ‘robots’ did you call them? Out of a mix of muggle ‘movie stopping parts’, children’s amusements, and illicit magical devices?”

“That’s right, Professor.”

“And that you’ve managed advanced magic well beyond your age level, or even the experience of several of your teachers and most the ministry of magic, to not only get around Hogwarts’ technology shorting shields, but to grant these robots, essentially, their own magical talent?”

“Uh huh.”

“And that you would like to enroll them in Hogwarts this coming September?”

“Yep, that about sums it up.”

“Minerva,” said Professor Dumbledore “Perhaps we can see these ah, Robot Friends, of Mr. Robinson’s?”

On cue, four robots stumbled into the roo.

“Meet Cambot, Gypsum, Tom Servo, and Crow,” said Joel. “What do you think sirs?”

“I think this place needs some redecorating,” said Crow. “The red and gold is a serious bias towards Brave Guy house. And I am gold so you know that’s bad.”

“So did you get us in?” asked Tom Servo. “Can I go see what the big fuss about this forbidden forest you won’t let us in now?”

“Well,” said Professor Dumbledore. “They certainly are amusing little creatures. Yes, yes I can see no reason to deny them. I will be see you all next year September 1st.”

“Whoo!” shouted Crow.

“I’m putting up my Richard Baseheart poster in the girls’ dorms!” called Gypsum.

Minerva simply sighed. They should have never agreed to that exchange program.

_The not so distant past..._

Generally, Joel was quiet. Just another face in a Ravenclaw scarf (a shame as he much preferred the color red). He mostly just kept to himself and studied alone. He did well in classes but ultimately cared more about his side projects enchanting muggle technology than anything that was actually in the preapproved Hogwarts curriculum. Still the ease at which he seemed to write History of Magic essays had attracted the ire of Clayton Forrester and Laurence Erhardt, two Slytherins (apparently the “evil” house, but Joel was convinced there had to be at least some redeemable ones, ambition couldn’t be inherently evil after all) who also happened to be from the Gizmonic Institute exchange program.

  
There were whispers about the exchange program, of course. That is was all a ruse to get Harry Potter and his friends, the local British celebrities of the Wizarding World, out of the country and away from their enemies. That on the Gizmonic side of things it was an attempt to curve their mounting financial problems by ditching the legacy scholarship and financial aid scholarship kids, transferring the money set aside for them into other operations. Considering Erhardt and Forrester were both prominent legacy families of strong wizarding bloodlines, and Joel was the very definition of a scholarship kid (had he not taken the study aboard offer he’d be cleaning up the place as a janitor for extra spending cash), they were natural choices to ship over the pond in exchange for some talented young trouble magnets with prepaid Hogwarts tuition being funneled to them. Still Erhardt and Forrester never actually bothered Joel…until the day they did.

“We’re interested in what you’re working on Joel Robinson,” Forrester had told him. “How about an invention exchange?”

Invention Exchanges were traditional Gizmonic greetings. Unlike in the UK where enchanting muggle objects was looked down upon, or even at Castleton (those snobs), Salem, or Livermonty, where the Maguza seemed to keep a closer eye on things, making stuff out of muggle bits was encouraged at Gizmonic. Joel usually took it a step further and invented really cool (and sometimes kind of over-complicated) things.

Joel gladly shared his invention, an inflatable, playable piano enchanted to play itself with the two older students. Forrester then shared his invention which would illct screams of “Evil! Insane! Disgusting”. And a prompt “Thank you!” from Erhardt. It was The Experiment. The Experiment, which Joel had just then unwittingly become a part of.

The Experiment was to drive Joel insane by forcing him to watch bad movies. He was cursed to stay in the movie theater the two had conjured up in an undisclosed location they sent him (Joel was pretty sure it was the Room of Requirement, which he had cheerily renamed the Room of Love), and they took to calling the place they communicated with him via two-way mirror “Deep Thirteen” (Joel was pretty sure it was that Chamber of Secrets place you get to through the girls’ bathroom, there was even a telltale slain Basilisk down there in the background). He couldn’t leave the theater until he watched the movies in full (although he could stop them whenever). The two said they were “monitoring his mind” and Joel’s mind was beginning to go insane with each of these cheese ball flicks.

“The professors are eventually going to notice I’m missing for hours at a time,” said Joel once.

“We have a time turner. You could say we’re monitoring you from oh I don’t know, Next Sunday AD.”

“So what if I told on you.”

“The really evil thing about this is they’re nothing strictly illegal about hexing a student to watch movies in the school bylaws! Most wizards don’t even know what a movie is.”

He’d been ordered to build Cambot by his Slytherin overlords so they had a better record of Joel’s slip into insanity. And possibly sell Joel’s rather amusing running commentary on the movies to a local muggle television cable show. Once Cambot was built Joel decided he might as well make a bot that could link themselves up with the fascinating little room, monitoring just how much “real time” had gone by and make sure he didn’t starve or run out of air if they left him there too long. And so, Gypsum was born. And well, being stuck watching these movies all alone was boring, so Joel figured it’d be more bearable if he could just have some companions that could join him in his theater and fill the void of human interaction. It wasn’t until after the “birth” of Tom Servo and Crow that he realized the random electronic bits he gathered together for their innards controlled where the movies began and end. He might have planned that a bit poorly.

Erhardt went missing randomly in the middle of the school year (it went weirdly uncommented on by most of the school, and was definitely not at all a cover up for him getting eaten by the Giant Squid, no not all). He was replaced with Forrester’s new best Hufflepuff lackey, Frank. TV’s Frank, as he liked to be called. Joel and the bots never did figure out what the heck his last name was. Or what the deal was the “TV’s” in front of his name. Or even if he was actually a student in Hufflepuff house or just some random guy Forrester found at a muggle Arby’s or something. Really Frank was a bit an enigma.

They were riffing a Godzilla movie when suddenly Crow, started floating mid-riff, something Joel had not enchanted him to do. And then Tom started making things float (other than himself), Gypsum magically created many, many Richard Baseheart pictures, and Cambot suddenly magic-ed them some musical scoring.

“Oh. Well this is unexpected.”

And so Joel Robinson created not only life, but magical life. Somehow it was not the strangest thing that had ever happened at Hogwarts.


	2. Joel Robinson and the Wandmaker of Diagon Alley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally the bots' adventure in Diagon Alley was going to only take up one chapter, but then this started getting a little long.

Joel and his robot friends’ flight to London from Minneapolis (the best way to travel overseas for wizards was still the very muggle way), landed two weeks before school started. Which meant one thing: school supplies shopping. While Joel honestly thought they could have probably gotten their supplies back home in the Midwest over summer break, they wouldn’t have the uniforms the bots would need and he had to admit that he had heard Ollivander was one fine wand maker from pretty much everyone.  
Joel pressed the bricks rhythmically to open the secret brick entrance to Diagon Alley outside of the Leaky Cauldron.

“It’s bigger on the inside!” called Servo.

“Oh hey there’s a lamppost. Joel, are we in Narnia?” asked Crow.

“Hm, bit obvious guys, but I’ll give you points because it’s British,” said Joel.

The first stop at Ollivander’s was met with oohs and ahs from the four assorted robots (well oohs and ahs from three of the robots and some excited beeping from Cambot).

“Well hello there,” said Ollivander, somehow completely ignoring the fact his clients were robots, “First year at Hogwarts?”

“Yes!” said Gypsum excitedly nodding her head.

“I want to do magic things and blow some stuff up!” said Crow equally excited.

“Well,” said Ollivander “You a wand is a very powerful tool and the responsibility should not be taken lightly.”

“Yeah, yeah the potentially deadly magic sparkle sticks you hand out to eleven year olds is a great responsibility,” said Tom. “Got it. Now wand me, baby!”

Ollivander took out the measuring tape prompting Tom to quip “yeah that’s not the only thing he’s measuring Crow.”

Joel pulled a face, he needed to have a conversation about appropriate topics when riffing on things.

“Now let’s start with you, Mr.?”

“Crow T. Robot,” said Crow.

“Alright Mr. Robot, this first wand here is five-inch walnut horned serpent core. Great for inventors and innovators.”

“Heh heh horned serpent,” said Servo. “Yeah that’s a name for a wand you swish around alright.”

“Not usually by my first pick for a core, but your American roots tell me this might be a good first go, and I had a few of these made special on a recent trip to see some American counterparts of mine.”

Ignoring Tom completely (he really needed to have that talk), Joel piped up “Walnut is what my wand’s made out of.”

“Mind if I?” asked Olivander, taking a peak at Joel’s wand. “Very nice craftsmanship, yes. Dragon heartstring core? Oh how delightful. Eleven inches, yes. Was this a Tyor wand? Ah yes of course I recognize his handiness, although he certainly is a difficult fellow to get along with. Not something you usually say about people hailing from the American Midwest…”

“Can I swish this around?” asked Crow.

“Oh yes of course, my dear boy,” said Olivander, remembering his customer. “Give it a whirl.”

Crow immediately produced an uncontrollable blast which knocked Servo to the ground.

“Hm,” said Olivander. “Perhaps not that.”

“You did that on purpose, Dickweed,” accused Tom.

Olivander went to back and tried again. “Alright then, how about this, eight inches, dragon heartstring core, Spruce.”

Crow set fire to the counter, nearly missing setting Gypsum’s head on fire instead.

“Hmm, well Spruce usually pairs well with bold castors possessing a good sense of humor, but perhaps your um, lack of hands as it were, triggered its nasty aversion to ah shakiness and unsteadiness…in those with shaking hands.”

“Joel how come you didn’t build us with more functional hands?” complained Tom.

“Alright, now, how about…ah yes of course. How about Blackthorn, good for dueling.”

Crow somehow summoned a (somehow even more off putting than real life) image of Arch Hall Jr.

“That was quite unpleasant,” said Olivander once it dissipated.

Crow tried a few more wands, creating more and more bouts of destructive chaos, before being handed one that was apparently made of Yew. Instead of creating chaos, he created the sound of a nice instrumental version of A Patrick Swayze Christmas.

“Ah yes eight inch, Dragon Heartstring Core, fine Yew wood. Now Mr. Robot, I must tell you, Yew is rather infamous for being a part of the wand of He Who Must Not Be Named. It is rumored to uh, be associated with life and death.”

“So you mean this is the wand that gets to decide who lives and who dies?”

“Well not quite, no…”

“Yes! Joel. Joel! I control life and death! I have the power!”

“Do you realize what you just handed him?”

“The wand choses the wizard,” said Olivander.

Joel muttered something under his breath, which sounded a bit like a deadpan “Can the wizard chose to punch the wand maker?”

And just like that Olivander had managed to whittle away at Joel’s Midwestern good-naturedness.

* * *

Servo was next. The first wand he tried, made of English Oak with a Dragon heartstring, set off worrying electrical sparks from his body. After a few more tries he was handed an Apple wood wand also with a Dragon heartstring. He summoned Torgo for a second, but even that brief second was enough for Olivander to quickly decide that it wasn’t the right wand.

“Alder, eight inches, sticking with the dragon heartstring. Specially made on a recent trip to the Americas.”

“Alder give her a whirl. See what I did there?”

He temporarily turned Olivander into Violet Beauregarde.

“Why violet you’re turning Violet,” said Tom.

“Is no one going to make the reference all those stories about that Harry Potter kid blowing up is Aunt?” asked Gypsum.

A few more tries later and Servo was getting frustrated. Each of his tries seemed to go more and more wrong, between setting Crow’s netting on fire and involuntarily changing the color and shaping of Cambot’s casing several times.

Finally, he was given a small little Dogwood wand, (Olivander rarely sold wands under eight inches, but the six and 3 quarters inch wand seemed necessary to him), with a dragon heartstring. Servo created a rather spectacular fireworks show, the ashes seeming to deliberately fall solely on Crow. The fireworks spelled out “Tom Servo” in their finale, and let out large booms.

“Splendid!” called Olivander. “Dogwood is a very playful material. They aren’t particularly adept at wordless magic, but go well with those possessing a bit of mischievousness and the gift of gab. And despite its playfulness these wands can do some quite serious magic. Wonderful.”

“Hear that Crow, I’m ‘wonderful’ and your wand is associated with a crazy mass murder.”

“Yeah well yours is tiny and small like you.”

“What’s the incantation to silence someone?” asked Servo innocently.

* * *

Cambot was next. The little bot, currently in the form of a floating orb, lacked hands, but was somehow able to hover a wand next to him. Joel didn’t actually program him that ability but he also wasn’t going to question it.

“Ah yes seeing our previous success with Dogwood why don’t we try that again?”

“Didn’t you just say Dogwood wasn’t good for wordless magic? Cambot doesn’t talk,” said Crow.

“I’m starting to think you intentionally chose really poor matches off the bat to give everyone a sense of a destructive whimsy before you can give them the same old spiel about the wand choosing them to make them feel special,” said Joel.

“I…” said Olvidaner taken off guard. “Alright then, um let’s try Alder, a wood that is known for being for wordless magic, helpful to skilled wizards, and prefers users that are helpful and likable. Made from a wood I gathered in America so there’s a local connection for your there. Um and a very special Phoenix feather. Yes, special indeed.”

Cambot very easily made a stream of old film negatives come out of his wand in a truly aesthetically pleasing way.

“Oh look at that,” said Tom. “First try.”

Olivander looked like he was sweating a bit. Gypsum also got her wand right on the first try, a fourteen-inch Rowan wand with a dragon heartstring, good for defensive charms. The five couldn’t help but note they were shuffled out rather quickly after paying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the symbolism and meaning behind the wands in canon per Pottermore. Naturally when I saw there was a wand associated with who lives and who dies (and was basically worded like that on the site) I had to give it to Crow, other wands which could have worked for him be damned.


	3. Joel Robinson and the Beasts of Diagon Alley

Next on the agenda was everything else on their school supply list. The robes, despite needing to be enchanted to odd sizes to fit the bots, were fairly easy to buy. Gypsum bought a mannequin on a hanger for when she wanted to be more formal, but otherwise had the uniform requirement waived. Cambot hadn’t even bothered with some kind of dress up tool, deciding having the uniform waived because of his shape was enough, and that he would simply tie his house scarf around his body when the time came.

“Joel, it says here we need hats,” said Tom.

“No one actually wears their hats, it’s like everyone forgot they were a part of the uniform years ago,” said Joel.

The correct sized cauldrons were procured, and then it was time to pick up their books at Flourish and Blotts.

“Ugh books are boring,” complained Crow. The man at the counter was wrapping the standard first year’s books for him, watching the bots closely and a bit suspiciously.

“Are you passing your arbitrary judgement on us because you like books, because Crow is annoying or because we’re robots and you’re being prejudiced?” asked Servo. “Because either way that’s discriminatory!”

Joel quickly attempted to hush him and walk him away from the counter.

The shopkeeper upgraded his suspicious watching to downright glaring.

Once Joel had calmed Servo down, he gave the man his book list. Being an upperclassman he had more leeway with his electives than the bots, and had a different set of books as a result. He’d taken about a week of muggle studies the year before realizing the class was effectively useless to him, being designed for Pureblood British wizards who didn’t even know how to turn down he lights using a light switch (where applicable). The condescending tone of the textbook was highly riffable, but he didn’t want to waste his time with it. Ultimately he’d managed to switch out pretty quickly, and found a place in Care of Magical Creatures. It was a little bit tedious of a subject on paper maybe, but he'd found a classmate willing to share his textbook for the year and it was outside and hands on. Considering the Mads (as he had dubbed Forrester and Frank-the Mads, short for Mad Scientists) kept him locked up inside his little Room of Love for hours on end, he’d take all the outside time he could get. But while he enjoyed the subject for the most part, it didn’t change the fact his new textbook was currently in the process of trying to eat him. The poor shop keeper looked as if his very soul was being sucked out by a dementor.

“This is the worst book they’ve ever had us stock,” he said wearily. “The students who got stuck with it last year say it calms down if you stroke it, but you try stroking in an entire years’ worth of these things. What’s wrong with Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them? Why can't they use that one. It's a classic!”

Crow came cashing over, suddenly very interested in some reading material after all.

“Okay now that is a cool book. And you’ll probably never manage to read it which makes it cooler.”

“Crow,” said Joel in a warning tone.

“Hey shop keeper guy I want the Murder Death Book of Monsters.”

“You’re not even taking the class.”

“It’s an extracurricular activity.”

The Monster Book of Monsters growled viciously.

“Please just take it,” said the shopkeeper, happy to have two more copies gone.

Crow let a happy little “Hurray!”

“See you next year!” called Servo as they walked out, and the shopkeeper seemed to shudder.

Outside Joel experimentally started stroking the spine of the book as instructed. It let out a little purr and opened right up. “Huh it’s actually kind of cute when it’s not out for blood. Kind of like the printed word version of Crow. Hey that reminds me, how do you all feel about pets?”

* * *

The pet store was perhaps a tad overwhelming and a tad chaotic. And perhaps the bots were still too young to be fully trusted with being the sole providers of a living thing, especially since there was very real possibility the five of them wouldn’t wind up in the same house. But it would teach them a valuable lesson about responsibility. At least that was what Joel was hoping they'd get out of this exercise.

Servo disappeared and immediately came back cuddling a small turtle (which actually looked quite large compared to Servo's small body).

“Honey, that’s not on the approved list of pets.”

“It is if I tell them it’s an enchanted American newt with a shell. His name is Tibby and I love him.”

For a robot with no real facial features with which to express emotion, Tom was doing a good job swaying his body in a way that seemed to indicate puppy dog eyes. Joel bowed down his head slightly. They were getting the turtle. Damn it.

Crow looked at Tom, was snuggling his turtle, judgmentally.

“What’s so magic about it anyways.”

Just as Crow spoke his shell changed from a very dark brown to a slightly less dark brown. Servo seemed even more enamored with his new (slightly) color changing pet. Crow looked even more skeptical.

Gypsum was initially a bit enthusiastic about a snake. “But Joel it looks like me!”, she had tried to argue against Joel’s skeptical look. And of course there was the “WATCH OUT FOR SNAKES,” someone (Servo) had to call out, momentarily frightening the other patrons who in no way could have gotten that reference. Cambot got enjoyment out of teasing a cat with a projection of a red dot (coincidentally, a cat being one of the few approved pets anyone bothered looking at). Yet somehow, at the end of the day, Gypsy, Crow and Cambot agreed they’d get a little barn owl and share her with Joel. Every so often during the Experiments, the Mads would send up a letter from their growing TV fan base they’d read ‘on air’ during the process, and they’d all agreed it’d be nice to send some thank you letters back without having to borrow Forrester’s particularly finicky owl. The owl they picked up was, by contrast to Forrester’s, sweet, and seemed to like perching on Crow’s shoulders. They decided on the name Mystie. And so Joel Robinson, Cambot, Gypsum, Tom Servo, Crow, Tibby the Turtle and Mystie the Owl were ready to start their next year of adventures aboard the Hogwarts express.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mystie is of course named for MSTies.


	4. Joel Robinson and the Robot Sorting

Joel and the bots found themselves at Kings Cross Station on September 1st. They’d stayed the week over at The Leaky Cauldron, where some of their other classmates stayed over prior to the start of the school year. Tom the innkeeper was an exceedingly nice fellow. He seemed more amused by the fatherly way in which Joel minded the bots than the fact they were well, bots. He made jovial jokes about how he and Tom Servo shared the same common first name. He gave them all free ice creams, and seemed to actually not hate Crow’s idea for Earth vs. Soup (or at least was very good at feigning interest). Joel was starting to notice the bots didn’t really take well to other humans beside himself, but Tom the innkeeper seemed to be an exception, and he was hoping his niceness would be a good warm up act for getting along with their classmates in their houses.

They loaded up their trunks, and made their way to the station. Joel had half a mind to hide the bots from the muggles, but explaining absent-mindedly they were a “science fair project” to a curious onlooker seemed to expel any possible suspicion. They were more muggle tech than not anyways, magic powers aside.

Joel went through the portal in the brick wall between platforms 9 and 10 first, demonstrating how to do it to the bots. Cambot came next, followed by Gypsum and then Servo toddling along with his hover skirt after. And…Crow didn’t come through. Joel sighed, told Gypsum to watch the others for a second, and came to retrieve the gold robot.

Crow was eyeing the wall nervously, unsure. He had Mystie’s cage above his school things on his cart, which he was carefully trying to steady.

“Joel I don’t want to do this,” said Crow.

Joel took Crow’s little claw hand carefully into his own, using the other to steady the owl’s cage. “Come on, you managed to get off the train with me for summer break this year. We’re just going the opposite way, okay?"

They walked together slowly, making the leap through the false brick, hand and hand.

“What took you so long, Crow?” asked Servo.

 “I was uh…tying my shoes.”

“You’re not wearing shoes,” said Tom in a mocking tone.

 “Shut up.”

“Scarity Cat,”

“Dickweed.”

The two bickered before Joel stepped in to tell them to cut it out, and helped them all on the train. The five took up most of a compartment, with Gypsum’s long tendril snaking its way around the isle.

Eventually, the trolley lady came and they each bought some sweets, the bots being fascinated by the chocolate frogs, and the famous wizards trading cards they collected.

“I can’t decide if getting Dumbledore is cool because we know him, or lame because we know him,” said Servo.

“The trolley lady is secretly two hundred years old and in charge of throwing exploding pastries at any little wizards that try and sneak off the train,” said Crow.

“Crow, what makes you think that?”

 “Look at the signs, Joel. The signs are everywhere.”

  The five talked amongst themselves for most of the ride, and then indulged in a bit of whimsy as they all caught a view of the castle a few hours later.

“Alright,” explained Joel. “The first years follow Hagrid on the boats, and the upper classmen take the carriages. I can’t stay with you guys. Are you going to be alright on your own?”

The four nodded and went on their way, Joel watched them go uneasily. Once he got off the carriage and made his way into the great hall, he found himself nervously watching the doors. As he waited for the bots to make it to the sorting ceremony, he kept looking over his shoulder.

“Looking for me, Joely Bear?” asked Forrester. He put a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “I’m very much looking forward to our experiments this year, aren’t you?”

 At the Slytherin table, an older blonde girl seemed to be frantically signaling that Forrester get over there. Soon she dropped the signaling and began simply yelling “CLAYTON!”  at the top her lungs.

“Ah, that would be my sister,” he said awkwardly. “I should probably be going now…”

Just then the bots and the other first years filed in. Joel breathed a sigh of relief. No boats were overturned and no one was short circuited or taken under by a giant squid. And as far as he could tell, no one spent the brief separation screaming in panic. Everyone was in once piece and heading to their sorting.

It was another relief when he realized that they got to see what the sorting was before any of them had the undertaking of going first. The slew of R and S last names meant they’d get to observe how this worked first. Joel was starting to think that under his cool, sleep eyed exterior he was actually more worried for the bots’ sorting than the bots were. The hat came alive, and began the year's version of the sorting song. 

 

> _"A thousand years or more ago,_  
>  _When I was newly sewn,_  
>  _There lived four wizards of renown,_  
>  _Whose names are still well known;_
> 
> _Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,_  
>  _Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,_  
>  _Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,_  
>  _Shrewd Slytherin, from fen._
> 
> _They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,_  
>  _They hatched a daring plan_  
>  _To educate young sorcerers_  
>  _Thus Hogwarts School began._
> 
> _Now each of these four founders_  
>  _Formed their own house, for each_  
>  _Did value different virtues_  
>  _In the ones they had to teach._
> 
> _By Gryffindor, the bravest were_  
>  _Prized far beyond the rest;_  
>  _For Ravenclaw, the cleverest_  
>  _Would always be the best;_  
>  _For Hufflepuff, hard workers were_  
>  _Most worthy of admission;_  
>  _And power-hungry Slytherin_  
>  _Loved those of great ambition._
> 
> _While still alive they did divide_  
>  _Their favorites from the throng,_  
>  _Yet how to pick the worthy ones_  
>  _When they were dead and gone?_
> 
> _'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,_  
>  _He whipped me off his head_  
>  _The founders put some brains in me_  
>  _So I could choose instead!_
> 
> _Now slip me snug about your ears,_  
>  _I've never yet been wrong,_  
>  _I'll have to look inside your mind_  
>  _And tell where you belong!"_

The sorting began and the other first years starting making their way to hat. And then finally, the first bot was called. “Robinson, Cambot” called McGongall.  (Cambot and Gypsum were using Joel’s last name in place of not really have any of their own for the school records).

The hat hummed awake and started reading Cambot’s personality inside the bot’s head.   

 _Oh you are very interesting,_ the hat told Cambot. _The quiet type. Always there but not always thought about. You see your_ s _elf being very utilitarian don’t you? Oh but that doesn’t mean you’re above a prank on your friends when the time calls for it. On the surface you’re very loyal to your friends and their needs. You’ll always give them what they ask for. But, if you were pushed you also wouldn’t mind working for just anyone. Interesting indeed. I see an internal conflict in you, the desire to help your friends, but to help their enemies with their needs as well. The enemies you were born to help. Still there is a thread of loyalty here, just loyalties which you choose for yourself. It will be up to you in the future to navigate these loyalties. But you have faith in yourself and your friends that you’ll somehow manage. That no matter the course you will be working long and hard by someone's side. Yes of course, it must be_ “Hufflepuff!”

 Cambot found his way over to the Hufflepuff table where his classmates seemed to applaud thunderously. The generic Hogwarts scarf he wore around his casing changed to yellow and black.

 Robinson, Gypsum was next.

The hat was on her head for about five seconds before loudly declaring “Hufflepuff!” She happily made her way over to sit next to Cambot.

Then Robot, Crow was next. He rearranged his netting so the hat could fit comfortably on his head.

 _Well you’re certainly a tough nut to crack._ The hat declared.

“Hey! Watch it!” said Crow aloud. Stupid piece of cloth. Thinking it knew things about him.

_I can hear you think those things, you know._

Crow grumbled at it mentality.

_Yes, I see someone who is quick-witted. Someone that loves the arts and thinking outside the box, but doesn’t possess the love of gaining knowledge or patience to learn new tidbits of knowledge that the house of Lady Ravenclaw requires. I see someone who loves his friends dearly-even if he refuses to admit it aloud to them. ‘Not your real father’ indeed._

Seriously this stupid piece of stupid old cloth needed to shut it.

_Hm... but you lack the spirit of hard work and toil expected of a member of Hufflepuff house. You seem to actively rail against the house’s values._

Well duh, Hufflepuffs are the lame guy house full of dopes that go around looking lost all the time. No offense, Gypsum. Some offense, Cambot.

_You don’t consider yourself to be particularly brave under all your bluster, just earlier today you needed your hand held._

Okay hat, he thought at it. You and me let’s go. I’m going to take your filthy…he managed to stop himself before trying to force the hat off his head, and potentially embarrassing himself in front of the whole school.

_You have deeply held ambitions. The mere fact you simply won’t let go of your ideas drive you, a certain screenplay comes to mind, but there is again, that aversion to hard work you have seems to hold you back. You have bits and pieces of all the houses of our founders, but we both know there is not perfect fit._

"So are you just straight up admitting this entire system of putting kids in boxes based on personality stereotypes is dumb," he muttered.

The hat had the audacity to chuckle at him.

_You are very strong willed, that much can be said about you._

DICKWEED, he thought as loudly as he could. 

_What do you value. What do you want?_

To decide who lives and dies. I thought I made this really clear, he thought. 

The hat chuckled at him again. “Very well, I say you belong in Slytherin!”

Oh. Forrester’s house. Crow caught a glimpse of Joel, who looked more worried than proud, pride being the way he’d looked at Gypsum and Cambot when they got their assignments. Still Crow made his way over, and managed to look imposing enough to his housemates that stared at him funny, even if on the inside he was nervous and really reconsidering his life choices. The blonde witch sitting next to Forrester looked at him quizzically, before giving him an oddly friendly smile (especially oddly friendly considering the evil way she was sizing everyone else up).          

“Servo, Tom,” was next. Unlike Crow, and much like Gypsum, the hat seemed to figure him out pretty quickly, placing him in Ravenclaw with Joel. But he left the hat looking a bit deflated nonetheless. 

“You okay?” asked Joel.

“Stupid hat called me pompous,” said Servo. “Though it also told the whole school how smart I am, so I guess it’s not all bad…"

Joel smiled, as the feasts continued, the bots now having their room assignments for the next seven years.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll leave it up to interpretation if I meant the trolley witch observation to be Crow somehow correctly guessing the canon of Cursed Child, or mocking Cursed Child as ridiculous and as discontinuity. 
> 
> Also the sorting of MST characters was pretty much the reason I wrote this. Crow was probably the hardest character to sort, as he has a lot of strongly defined character traits, but none of those character traits fit neatly into the Hogwarts Houses. I couldn't decide if the whole "Cambot is secretly evil" thing from the Kickstarter updates was enough to bump him over to Slytherin, but ultimately decided I wanted Crow to navigate that house mostly alone for plot reasons (well in so much that this has a plot-you'll see who else is Slytherin later), and conflicting loyalty to the Mads is still a form of a loyalty (and toil).


	5. Joel Robinson and the Dormitory Portals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah for a chapter with Joel's name in the title he really doesn't show up outside of like a line in this chapter (I need to keep the "Joel Robinson and the X" titles going for now for reasons).
> 
> Also as with my other fics the purple bot is now Gypsum. I will probably go back in and edit her name in the other chapters for consistency's sake.

After the feast ended, the bots and Joel followed their respective prefects to their living assignments, Joel separating from Tom once the first years and the upperclassmen parted ways. Tom hovered along after the other first year Ravenclaws as the Head Boy and Girl led them to the entrance of the dormitory.

“Ravenclaw Tower is guarded not by a password, but by a riddle,” explained the Head Girl. “Here in Ravenclaw we value the pursuit of knowledge. So we answer a riddle for passage instead relying on a mere password. Everyone is encouraged to give it a try, but if you can’t figure it out simply wait for one of your classmates. An important part of learning more is helping others learn more as well. Would anyone like to try it?”

“Oh, oh me. I want to try it!” said Tom. He’d watched Joel do this last year before he sought permission for the bots to be official students. There’d always been one answer Tom had been tempted to give, and now with audience was as good as time as any. He approached the eagle shaped bronze door knocker.

“What is at the beginning of every End?” it asked.

“The answer to a riddle asked by a golden door knocker,” said Tom.

He heard the eagle sigh audibly, before opening.

“Wait can’t we apply that answer to any riddle?” asked another first year, a young girl decked out in pigtails and little butterfly clips.

The eagle suddenly spoke in a booming voice “ANY FIRST YEARS THAT USE THAT ANSWER AGAIN ARE BEING DENIED ENTRY TO HOUSE OF THE FAIR LADY RAVENCLAW.”

“Oh but the letter ‘E’ is such a Sesame Street answer,” complained Tom.

The tour continued and the Head Boy explained about the common room’s amenities, particularly the expansive views it offered.

“The quidditch pitch, the Forbidden Forest…”

Tom’s level of interest clearly went up. “Ohhhhh...”

The prefects all collectively sighed. They had _one of those_ on their hands...

_Meanwhile..._

 Hufflepuff had been too good to be true. Close to the kitchens, a security system that didn't require the verbalization of a password but a series of rhythmic beats Cambot could easily replicate to the tune of "Helga Hufflepuff" ...but now there was a problem. 

Gypsum's coils snaked all over the floor of Hufflepuff. Her classmates (politely) attempted to step over them. Apparently Hufflepuffs took the "tiny badger den" theming a bit literally. The common room had more in common with a Hobbit Hole than anything. 

"Um the girls dorms have more space than the main room does," explained one of the upperclassmen, Cedric. "There should be more room for you there." 

She huffed in frustration as Cambot beeped in a laughing tone at her. Well, at least her classmates were nice...

_Meanwhile..._

Crow trotted along with the Slytherins cautiously, who were mostly all looking at him like they wanted to toss him out for scrap metal or something. The ones that did this the most looked like the unholy love children of Arch Hall Jr and Trumpy, and so he responded by trying to match their glares as hard he could. Even if on the inside he really just wanted to run back to Ravenclaw with Joel and Servo. But his classmates did not need to sense that, and Joel and Servo absolutely did not need to know that.

After a while he walked he got distracted by looking at all the pictures, watching them move about their frames. In one frame two knights were engaged in a rather intense sword fight; their “fight choreography”, for lack of a better comparison, was way cooler than anything Crow had ever seen in one of the movies Forrester had showed him. One of the knights managed to get a rather violent looking hit on the others shoulder. Neat!

“Art!” he exclaimed to himself. The blonde girl that had been yelling at Forrester earlier smiled next him.

“You just asked me my name and you calling me Art instead of Crow is about to be become a thing, isn’t it?”

She gave him sort of a half smirk. “Pearl Forrester,” she said extending a hand. Crow shook it perhaps a bit more enthusiastically than he should have given that he was effectively making friends with someone clearly related to Clayton Forrester.

Just as their hands separated an older student with dirty blonde hair, maybe in Joel’s year or the year below, came barreling down into the group.

“Stair case. Wrong way. Sorry,” he mumbled in an American accent by way of explanation.

Another smarmy, skinny student with white-blonde hair chuckled and roll his eyes. “Honestly Nelson. Why on Earth the hat didn’t put you in Hufflepuff...but the hat keeps making questionable choices,” the little dickweed was clearly eyeing Crow.

The American wizard rolled his eyes, “Because Hufflepuffs don’t usually have the overwhelming desire to punch little rich boys in the face. Just go back to ignoring me and pretend you’re actually important quietly to yourself, okay Malfoy? ”

It would have been a pretty good retort if the effect hadn’t been ruined by the guy instantly dropping his books when he tried to fold arms, and a larger textbook falling onto his toes, resulting in a pained wince.

Well thought Crow, at least I’m not going to be known as the biggest dork in this house. He pretty much instantly forgot about the American guy, but now absolutely had to learn a jinx and test it out on the pasty Britt. For education or something. But for now he was going to enjoy his new living assignment as best he could, the place that would represent freedom when Forrester wasn't forcing them to watch the movies. 

"Welcome to the dungeons," said the Head Boy. 

Okay so "represent freedom" had probably not been the best choice of words there...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had never actually researched what the Pottermore official description of Hufflepuff's dorm entrance was like until writing this. It's pretty cool (but I'd stay with Ravenclaw and their views of literally everything cool on the grounds to look at). 
> 
> Also I know that in canon "Art" came from a kid's letter, but my AU my rules.


	6. Joel Robinson and the Cinematic Return

The experiments started again. The first Sunday after settling into their classes, he and the bots were planning on catching up with each other about what school was like so far. Sunday instead brought just over an hour and a half of torture in the Room of Love. 

The film wasn’t really that bad, the letters Mystie delivered for them were actually rather cute, and they had some fun with the props they put together. Their side of the invention exchange, while put together in a rush, was still totally better than Foresters’. But at the end of the day Crow seemed off. 

On the one hand, his jokes were biting and well timed as as usual. He never broke character during a skit in a way he wouldn’t normally. He played along with Cambot’s recording the way he always would. But on the other, he seemed to be avoiding eye contact with everyone. When Gypsum excitedly started talking about how nice Cedric Digory, the prefect planning on entering the triwizard tournament was, and Tom started blathering about his feats of academic accomplishment, and even Cambot showed off footage of the little den that made up the Hufflepuff common room, Crow seemed to shut down. 

Joel knew for a fact if Crow was happy he’d be excitedly trying to one up the others, talking about how green was the superior color or something. Instead he was seemingly finding his feet to be especially interesting today. Maybe it was too early for this, but it was time to step in. 

“Well, we have a long day of avoiding ourselves in here doing whatever it is we were just doing….which hmmm….that little convenience of the established rules of time turner use leaves me with ideas.” 

If Tom’s hands worked he would have rubbed them together just then. He made up for the lack of maniacal hand rubbing by adding a dark little chuckle for the effect instead. 

“Tom,” said Joel. “We live in the same dorm. I know about your plan to sneak into the Forbidden Forest. Heck, the whole dorm knows your plan to sneak into the Forbidden Forest. For the love of Merlin do not use Clayton Forrester’s time turner to sneak into the Forbidden Forest.” 

“Oh. I was actually planning on getting food from the kitchens while everyone else is busy. But your idea is way better...I’m going to need more time to pull it off though than just an hour and a half…”

Joel just sighed. He’d deal with his other little problem child later, right now he needed to get to the bottom of whatever it was that was eating at Crow. 

“Right...don’t do that. Crow can we talk for a minute?” 

The other three bots piled out as fast as they could, with Crow uneasily looking like he was considering following them. He ultimately just hung his beak to the ground and let Joel walk him to one of the benches in the castle courtyard. The two sat down. 

“Crow...is everything okay?”

“What, yeah of course. The sky is blue. The unicorns are frollicing or whatever…” 

“Crow…”

The little gold bot looked down again. He let out a sigh, or a least a sound similar to a sigh that would have been one if he could breathe. 

“You don’t think I’m evil just because I’m in Slytherin do you?”

Joel blinked. Where the heck had that come from?

“What. No. Just because a hat thinks you’re ambitious doesn’t mean you’re evil-although I’m going to have to question its definition of ambition…” 

Crow sighed. 

“Yeah I don’t fit in. Not because of that, because they’re all a bunch of stuck up dickweeds that are magical racists too. They’re all picking on me and they suck. Well...Pearl Forrester is okay believe it or not. I’m pretty sure she’s evil, she’s just not evil to me. And some of them leave me alone and are nice enough, but some of them are just total…” 

“Dickweeds?” finished Joel. 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you want me to talk to the teachers about it for you?” 

“It’s not like that’ll do anything. We can’t even get Forrester busted for the movies. But...uh...I think I have a plan though. So I’ve got this under control and stuff.” 

“Alright, if you need anything just know I’m always here for you. And Crow, don’t do anything that will get you expelled, alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” he said dismissively. 

For a second he seemed to consider going in for a hug, but then seemed to realize he was technically in public. Instead he ran off quickly. As he ran off he shouted “applying what I learned in charms to hex Draco Malfoy won’t get me expelled, right?” 

“Wait a minute, Crow…” called Joel. Crow was alright out of site view. 

In the Slytherin common room Crow muttered the incantation under his breath practicing it. He swished his wand back and forth, just to make sure he had this right. He hid himself behind the door, and...nothing happened. 

An American voice spoke from behind a book next to him, “you’re swishing in the wrong direction.” 

“Oh.” 

And with a slight correction Draco Malfoy was the victim of the “Eat Slugs” spell. 

“You should probably make yourself scarce before they go looking for who just did that,” he said. 

“Thanks Mich!” he called. 

“It’s Mike!” 

“Whatever!” 

From across the castle Joel had the sudden feeling that keeping Crow out of trouble was going to be nearly impossible. And then a few days later Mystie arrived with a parcel that confirmed it.


	7. Joel Robinson and the Inaugural Broom Flight

Crow T Robot was in a much better mood. As evidence of this mood, Crow practically bolted out of the Slytherin dorms. Today was the day. Today was the day. Today was the day! Flying lessons! 

“I don't know what you're so excited about,” said Servo, who was meeting him between classes. “It's just flying.” The little red bot hovered just a few inches higher to prove his point. 

Crow rolled his eyes, and then stopped dead once he became aware of Joel was chasing after them. 

“Um…I've got to run.” 

Crow was not an athletic robot. His limbs were awkward and gangly. He was easily caught by the netting, which Joel did in one easy swoop; Crow ended up being suspended just a few inches off the ground.

“Uh hey Joel...how’s it hanging?”

His feet dangled at the word ‘hanging’. Joel lowered him down, but didn’t let go of him. 

“Well mister, why don't you ask the Howler they sent me about your Self Stirring Cauldron essay? Crow how did you mess up on a homework essay so badly the school sent your technical guardian a Howler about it? Forget that, how did you screw up so bad that Professor Bins remembered your name? They say he hasn't remembered a student’s name since he could still breathe.” 

“Well it's not like I don't stick out…” 

“Tom said he calls him Tim Servino and Tate Stevenson.” 

Tom, who was still hovering in the corridor listening in, began the stereotypical “I'm innocent” whistle. Crow glared at him. 

“Crow…” said Joel in his ‘dad voice’ warning tone. 

“It's not my fault! Professor Bins just didn’t like my perspective and deep dive into self stirring cauldrons, and how they’re a slippery slope of laziness that will lead to the uprising of the trolls as the dominant magic species over Wizard kind, and how the whole thing is a government conspiracy funded by the lemon drop candies Professor Dumbledore keeps in his office.” 

Joel raised his eyebrows. He honestly didn’t even know where to start with that. 

“Just try to stay with the book next time okay, kiddo? I really just don’t want to see you get expelled. To see any of you guys expelled.” 

“I mean...if we get expelled we probably would be free ticket out of Forrester’s experiments,” said Tom who was still listening in.

Joel sighed. The experiments were some deep hurting already. But he couldn’t imagine the bots being left alone in the world without him nearby just yet, and they needed proper training on how to use their magic, even if somethings like a fix for spell movements that involved working limbs, seemed to come naturally to them. Instead of trying to articulate all of this though, he instead opted for just putting a friendly hand on Crow’s shoulder.

Crow seemed to lean into the gesture for a second, before catching sight of some other Slytherin first years and instantly pushing his creator away in embarrassment. The students scowled at him. Crow growled back, and then made his way back down the quidditch pitch, in less of a good mode than before. Joel followed, deciding to use his free period to watch. Crow said he had a handle on the bullies, but if he didn’t...

The Ravenclaws and Slytherins were having the lesson together, the professors having decided that while putting the Slytherins with the Gryffindors had yielded a great find for Quidditch in Harry Potter (“being wasted in the states with their silly Quodpot playing, such a shame really”), the competitive nature of both houses really wasn’t suited for learning to fly together, and they should mix them apart. They also needed the pitch in tiptop shape for the upcoming triwizard tournament, and the potential destruction of another Slytherin v Gryffindor matchup wasn’t worth the trouble. Whoever made this decision, however, had not accounted for the fact they had put Crow T Robot and Tom Servo together for their lesson instead.

Part one of the lesson was simple enough, getting the notoriously finkey school brooms to come up to their riders. Tom got his quickly because it didn’t have to come up very far, so Madam Hooch forced him to hover higher so the broom would have to come up at least as far as Crow’s, causing him to struggle some. Crow laughed at him, until his own broom whacked him in the beak. And then it officially became a pissing contest. 

Tom had to be magically stuck to his broom, and had no traditional way to steer it, causing him to move in circles at first. Crow, despite his resemblance to well, a crow, didn’t take the skies very well and was nervously holding onto the broom for dear life only a few feet off the ground. Once Tom managed some jiggery pokery to get his circles to at least be around Crow, and get some height, Crow took the challenge to fly up to him. Tom managed to somehow figure out straight-ish lines (really more zigzags), and suddenly it was a flight pattern showdown. Match this straight line here, match this overly complicated stop and go here. Ignore madam Hooch’s insistent whistling to stop already both of you, 10 points from Ravenclaw, 10 points from Slytherin. Somewhere along the way Tom managed a loopty loop. Crow, failing to stop to consider, oh hey he’s basically glued stuck to that thing, copied the maneuver. He ended up dangling from the broom by his claws, and nearly crashing into one of his classmates that was still trying to figure out the art of breaking. 

“Um…it’s practice for a really competitive Quidditch match?” he tried. The student got out his wand and tried aiming a hex at him. This was enough to get Tom to decide to stop targeting Crow, and start trying to target the bullish the Slytherin first year instead. 

Joel watched with his head in his hands. That wasn’t trying to not get expelled. That wasn’t even sort of trying not to expelled. But at least they were banding together, and they also wouldn’t get anywhere if he intervened at every corner of their lives. So he took a third option, quickly casting a small blast from his wand to knock the student to the ground, out of sight from behind the bleachers, and from behind the student so it was clear neither Tom nor Crow was the perpetrator. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Madam Hooch frantically blowing her whistle as Tom and Crow looked on in silence as they slowly descended down to the ground next to the neutralized threat. Joel quickly made his escape, and let Tom and Crow alone to deal with the fallout. Which ended up being a detention with Madam Hooch, and having to put up with some excited chatter about flying maneuvers from an over enthusiastic Gryffindor that had also watched the display.


End file.
